


The Nemesis of Expectation

by urami



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Future Fic, Gen, Implied one-sided attraction, Inspired by Music, Interviews, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 09:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12981573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urami/pseuds/urami
Summary: Miguel Rivera, popular musician, gives an interview about his controversial new album.





	The Nemesis of Expectation

“And we’re live in 5… 4… 3…” the cameraman stopped talking and instead finished the countdown with his hands. The grinning television show host and his guest rapidly adjusted themselves, both pasting wide smiles back on their faces before the camera flashed back on and the “LIVE TELEVISION” light at the back of the studio lit back up.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Mexico’s premier entertainment news program, _El Espectáculo!_ I’m your host, Felix Oropeza! Tonight our guest is the man who’s been described as the ‘voice of a generation,’ here to talk about his controversial new album, _Marigold._ Please give a warm welcome to Miguel Rivera!” 

The man in question, now in his late twenties rather than a rather hyperactive preteen, smiled and waved for the camera, while trying not to let his trepidation show. For one thing, he  _hated_ being on camera. Residual trauma from discovering the deceased movie star he’d looked up to was a murdering madman, he supposed. For another, hearing his latest album described as “controversial” was… worrying. Yes, he knew the sound was a lot harsher and more electronic than his previous work, and yes, he knew the lyrics were quite a bit more explicit than anything he had come up with before- if she’d still been alive Abuelita Elena would have  whacked him senseless with her house slippers for using such language, and he had some reservations about letting his younger sister listen to it, but seriously, was it  _that_ shocking? American singers came out with  _much_ more  graphic lyrics on the regular, to say nothing of the European metal bands. “ Good to be here, Felix.” 

“So I guess we’ll just get right down to it, then, is that alright, Miguel? Can I call you Miguel?”

‘Why not?”

“Right,” Felix continued. “Anyway. I’m sure you’ve heard about some of the reactions to your new record. On one hand, it’s gone triple-platinum faster than any other North American artist’s in the 21st century so far, and it’s incredibly popular. You can’t walk around Mexico City without someone’s cellphone going off with one of the new songs as a ringtone. And from what I see on Twitter, you’ve become very popular in the United States, Europe, and Japan. On the other, some parents and religious groups have called for it to be censored, claiming you’re out here promoting moral decay. And to be honest, I can sort of see where they’re coming from- _Double Agents_ is incredibly disturbing in what it implies, and well, there’s no real delicate way to put this, but the subject matter in _Sick for Me_ and _Anti You_ isn’t even implied, it’s right out there with the sadomasochistic references.” 

Miguel winced. “That’s… overstating it, I think. I personally thought it was clear enough those songs were metaphorical.” Felix gave him an unimpressed look, forcing him to continue. “Look, I’m sure you all know who my great-great grandfather is. Was. Whatever.”  


“Who could forget?” Felix replied, taking the bait. “Héctor Rivera, the unsung creator of Ernesto De la Cruz’s songs as well as the man he murdered. Which, if I remember correctly, was discovered when you were what, ten years old?” 

“Twelve,” Miguel corrected. “And I remember that event _very_ clearly.” There was no need to go into more detail. The world had its own version of how De la Cruz’s treachery had been discovered, while Miguel knew the truth. “But what you might not know is that growing up, I was a _huge_ fan of De la Cruz. I had all his movies on tape and I watched them until they wore out. I memorized all the lines, I knew all the songs, but I had no idea they were really my ancestor’s.” 

“So I suppose it was a shock to discover the truth,” Felix implied. Miguel nodded.

“I felt betrayed, led on, lied to, and most of all, _enraged_. That motherfu-” Felix quickly made a slashing motion across his throat with his hand and a loud beeping sound drowned out the rest of the word Miguel used. 

“Please remember we’re live, Miguel. You might be able to get away with that kind of language in your studio, but it won’t fly on the air,” Felix laughed.

“Sorry.” Miguel wasn’t all that sorry. If anything he was sorry the sound tech had figured out what he was saying in time to get the bleep in the right place. “Anyway. That bastard murdered my great-great grandfather and stole his songs. He stole my great-grandmother’s father from her, and here I had looked up to him. I felt like my entire life was a lie, like I’d been used. That was the exact moment I swore I would never become anything like Ernesto De la Cruz. That was the inspiration behind _Anti You.._ Incidentally that’s where the inspiration behind _Point of No Return_ and _What Doesn’t Kill You Will Make You A Killer_ is from as well. As time went on and I learned more and more about the situation, and what happened leading up to my great-great grandfather’s murder, more and more disturbing details started to emerge. When I was sixteen, some documents of De la Cruz’s were discovered. The man was obviously obsessed with him. I’m not sure if some of the details written in those papers were true, or just the fantasies of a demented mind, but it’s pretty clear that De la Cruz was insanely jealous of my great-great grandmother and my great-grandmother and wanted to monopolize him. Whether he was in love with him, or just wanted to be the only person in his life I don’t know, but there was definitely something fu- uh, screwed up going on there,” he caught himself in time. “That’s where _Sick for Me_ came in- it’s from De la Cruz’s perspective.” 

“How did it feel to write that, then?” Felix was listening with rapt attention. Good- he’d at least won the show’s host over.

“Honestly? Like I needed to take a shower in bleach. Hopefully the next life doesn’t get live television from this one or I’ll have to explain that one after I die.” Felix laughed loudly at what he thought was a joke, not having any idea that Miguel was most certainly not joking. He _really_ didn’t want to have to explain to Papa Héctor (or even worse, Máma Coco) why he’d written that song. He’d always been very careful to hide any trace of it on Day of the Dead, even going so far to bury the files deep within his computer- even though he was pretty sure that ghosts couldn’t use computers, he didn’t want to take the chance he was wrong. If it turned out they could get TV shows from the living world, that might be even worse.   


“What about the rest of the album?” Felix asked. Miguel shrugged.

“Other than _Double Agents_ , which you already mentioned, the rest of it is pretty normal. I wrote _Gift for You_ after a bad breakup, _I Despise_ is actually something I wrote when I was fifteen and really angry with my parents,” that got a laugh. “And _Handlebars_ is about the same girl I wrote _Gift for You_ about. Just…. about a year earlier.” 

“And _Double Agents?”_ Felix asked. 

“It’s what I imagine was going through my Papa Héctor’s mind when he died thinking he’d contracted food poisoning rather than intentional poisoning,” Miguel replied. 

“Well, we’re just about out of time for tonight, everyone,” Felix said before Miguel could continue on. “But I for one am convinced! There’s much more to this young man than you’d guess just from looking at him. I’ll be honest with you, Miguel, I actually hadn’t ever listened to your work other than the covers of Héctor’ Rivera’s songs- no offense is intended, I assure you, there’s just far too many albums being produced nowadays that if I tried to listen to everything I’d never have time to do anything else, so my first exposure to your own work was this record. Which was a huge shock to the system, I’ll be honest. But knowing now what I do, I know I’ll be shouting down any naysayers I come across from now on.” 

“Thank you, Felix,” Miguel replied, actually meaning it. The cameraman made a gesture, and Felix collapsed in his chair like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Realizing they were no longer on the air, Miguel also allowed himself to relax.

“Ugh, my face hurts,” Felix muttered., massaging his cheeks and temples. “Well, that oughta have convinced them. You did pretty good, for a guy who hates going on camera. Incidentally, does that have anything to do with De la Cruz?”

“Yes,” Miguel admitted. “The man was a total camera hog and stole every scene he was in. Most people can’t even remember the names of his co-stars in the movies without looking them up, even if they were famous in their own right. I didn’t want to become like that.” 

“Yeah, you made that pretty damn clear,” Felix smirked knowingly. “But for what it’s worth, man? Your devotion to your family is really inspiring- even if you did write some crazy lyrics anyone who listens to your stuff- _really_ listens to it- will know you’re not some sort of degenerate musician that fathers warn their daughters to stay away from.” 

‘Thanks a lot,” Miguel replied, sarcastically. Felix shook his head.

“Seriously dude, it’s the truth. And I’m sure your great-great grandfather is watching all of this from wherever and smiling. Not only did he finally get the recognition he should have gotten when he was alive, his descendant is carrying on the fine family tradition.” The television host yawned and stretched. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get some sleep before I have to fill in for Arsenio Rodriguez on _Good Morning Mexico_ tomorrow. Ugh. Between you and me, I don’t know how he puts up with Milagros Menendez on a daily basis.” The female host of the show was very pretty and from what Miguel could tell, intelligent, but she was also more hyperactive than Dante the xolo after seeing a doggy biscuit and liked to randomly change the subject to whatever had crossed her mind at the moment, much to the annoyance and confusion of both her co-host and guests to the show. 

“Who’s on tomorrow?” Miguel asked. Felix shrugged.

‘Was supposed to be some politician, but apparently he’s boycotting us in favor of some crazy conspiracy podcast since we’re the ‘lamestream media’ or whatever,” the other man said. “I don’t think anyone’s going to watch it.”

And he was correct- since the politician in question never showed up, the station re-aired his conversation with Miguel,  and Milagros Menendez decided to take calls on the content. Record sales soared even more. If he’d chosen to cash in on it, Miguel could have lived even better than Ernesto De la Cruz did, in this life  _or_ the afterlife. But he didn’t. 

After putting a good proportion of it in a trust fund for Little Coco to use to go to college, Miguel took the majority of the rest to set up a scholarship fund for hopeful musicians to go to conservatory for either specialized high school, or college. It was something Ernesto De la Cruz  _never_ would have done. And he hoped that the  Héctor  Rivera Memorial Scholarship Fund would help keep his great-great grandfather’s legacy alive for many, many more years to come. 

 

The End 

**Author's Note:**

> The title for this fic could really be "my taste in music, let me show you it." I'm fluent in two languages and conversational in two more, but Spanish isn't one of them- I'm also a lot more into electronic rock than anything else, so that's mostly what the music referenced here is. Here's links to everything referenced, just be aware that they may be various levels of NSFW, from lyrics to videos, so maybe don't click if your boss is chilling in your office or something. 
> 
> I tried to kind of think along the lines of how I had Miguel explain everything in the story- what was going through his mind as he wrote everything. A lot of these songs are fairly dark, but if you think about it, the movie itself was pretty damn dark- just not in the way you expected it to be. Everyone reaches the end of the line eventually. Usually though, your stop doesn't come because your alleged "best friend" poisons you- Ernesto is one hell of a yandere, to borrow a term from anime/manga fandom. 
> 
> The title is actually a line from _Anti You_. 
> 
> [Double Agents](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIAwYbiWGGA)\- New World Revolution   
> [Sick for Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-eAJfMNr88)\- Big Data   
> [Anti You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sF3aZyNDF1Q)\- Blue Stahli   
> [Point of No Return](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JsR85brXkQ)\- Starset   
> [What Doesn't Kill You Will Make You a Killer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gr1Y8GVByR4)\- Rabbit Junk   
> [I Despise](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=olb-X9dA4y8)\- Chaotica   
> [Gift For You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gDiPtYPx_m8)\- Celldweller   
> [Handlebars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9qQvRM08Jj4)\- Rabbit Junk 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
